


End

by ToyBoxOfSuz



Series: The Customer [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Escorts, Dominance, Dubious Consent, Escort Service, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Molestation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 10:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2106933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToyBoxOfSuz/pseuds/ToyBoxOfSuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles worked as an 'unofficial escort' and he had a pain in the ass customer Peter Hale.  Not anymore. Yet, the universe isn't done with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	End

**Author's Note:**

> This is the 3rd part of The Customer series and most likely the last one. Yep. I finished it.
> 
> It's all smut, I don't even have an excuse.
> 
> Betaed by Evy~

It’s been weeks since Stiles told Lydia that he will stop with his ‘part-time job’ for a while. He had enough money for college and for most of the things he needed, thanks to his generous customers, so he decided he deserves a bit of a break. But all Stiles could think about was the breaking-up with Peter Hale.

Which totally wasn’t a break-up, it was just the end of a business relationship. Even though, Stiles had to admit he handled it just like a breakup. He stayed in bed for days without showering, or eating anything other than chocolate ice cream and drinking beer. Scott physically had to drag him under the water after a few days when he really started to smell. That was the day when he finally showed signs of moving on.

And it was working. He went to classes, he partied with Scott. He called Lydia that he will stop with his unofficial escort service forever, because he didn’t need anything like what happened with Peter to happen again.  He didn’t even think of Peter again, only very rarely when he was tired and it was late into the night and he let himself slip. But otherwise, Stiles was fine.

Stiles was doing totally fine and he was going on with his life.

But then he accepted this stupid catering job, just so he can get some money and not be bored on his Saturday night and the universe decided that it wasn’t done with him.

\--

Stiles tried to stifle a yawn as he walked around the guests with the tray in his hand. They didn’t let him offer champagne so he had to stick with the sandwiches which smelled absolutely delicious and the boy’s stomach sometimes rumbled loudly. Thankfully the live music could soften that sound, but it was still a bit embarrassing.

It was a charity event hosted by one of the biggest hotels in the city. It really was just an excuse for rich people to get together, have a chat, swap call cards and congratulate each other on their money. Nothing really exciting for Stiles.

As Stiles was looking over the prestigious crowd, he wondered how he escorted Peter to a few occasions like this too. He was the only one who dared to appear with him; all the other customers were hiding in their cars, in hotel rooms, or other places when they met him for business. Then he mentally slapped himself, because he shouldn’t think about _that man_. It’s been months already. So Stiles was desperately searching around for something he could think about when he spotted a familiar face. His blood went cold and his stomach dropped. It was one of his customers. Well, talking about the devil…

Jackson Whittemore. That spoiled, rotten brat with the body of a Greek god and the most ridiculous acceptance complex ever. He wasn’t gay. Publicly. He had an image he was very uptight about and in that image, having other men sucking him off really didn’t fit. He was violent and almost just as much a pain in the ass as Peter, but at least when Stiles told him to take his paws off him he reluctantly did. He was the same age as Stiles, but he already had a brighter future. Though Stiles wasn’t really sure about that, with the way Jackson bottled things up, he’ll probably end up in rehab or a mental hospital before he can sit in his father’s chair.

But the fact that Jackson was at the party left Stiles with a sinking feeling. He never met his customers outside ‘business hours’ and somehow, spotting Jackson publicly like this made it all real. That they were real people, with lives outside hotel rooms and cars and Stiles wasn’t sure if he liked to think about that.

The boy closed his eyes and forced himself to just _stop_. He wasn’t here to make himself remember what he was and just to prove it he moved toward the group with Jackson in it and offered the small bites. He did his best to try and act like he didn’t recognize the young man at all, but those bright blue eyes got stuck on his face longer than necessary and Stiles hoped his blush wouldn’t give him away. He didn’t look at Jackson, but moved onto the next group of people.

For the next hour, he was the most hard working waiter in that goddamn room. And it helped. He was focusing on his work and the guests and not about Jackson and all the memories that he brought with him. But just because Stiles wanted to ignore the elephant in the room, it didn’t mean others would too.

“Lydia said you quit. Is that true, or you’re just giving the cold shoulder to me?” he heard the low words in his ear as he was tending the table. Stiles took a deep breath to calm down. It was almost ironic how he didn’t expect Jackson of all people to greet him as such.

“Don’t think everything’s about you, dude.” Stiles huffed, tidying up the glasses and the leftovers. Jackson was standing at the edge of his personal space. He wasn’t the one who would violate it after all, thank god, because it was already pretty uncomfortable. “I quit, because I realized there’s more to this world than sucking dicks for a living.” he said quietly, and finally looked at Jackson, hoping he will take the hint and leave.

He knew what Jackson’s problem was. It must have taken him enormous amounts of courage to call Lydia about this matter and just when he had someone who would regularly suck him they quit. Jackson probably hadn’t gotten off ever since. Well, not by someone’s mouth, definitely.

“I told her to guide you to Danny.” Stiles whispered when he saw Jackson’ jaw tighten.

“I don’t know him.” the brat replied and Stiles would almost feel bad for him if he wouldn’t know what a prat he was.

“You won’t ever if you won’t call him.” Stiles pointed out a bit annoyed. Jackson just took another breath, probably swallowing down a shout, but his eyes were menacing. Stiles just shook his head and turned back to the table just in time when a guest leaned in to take a glass of champagne. The boy stepped out of his way and glanced up at him, just to have the next heart attack of the night.

It was Peter. It was Peter Hale in the flesh. Stiles felt cold sweat break on the back of his neck and time slowed down as the man was reaching for the glass. He was wearing a sharp suit and he looked more handsome than ever and his cologne was still expensive and Stiles’ knees went weak. But he could only freeze and stare.

Peter casted a quick glance at him, which was almost indifferent and Stiles tried to cling to it. Yes, indifference, that’s it. That’s the reason he ended it with Peter. The man didn’t want him, it was just material, it didn’t mean anything to him. And yet Stiles still felt cold knives dancing in his stomach as he was watching Peter walk away to meet a woman. Probably his date for the night. He smiled at her as his hand slipped on her waist, ruffling the red dress she was wearing. The touch was so easy, so natural that Stiles knew they were involved. A lot. Deeply. In several different positions, probably.

The thought made him sick and it didn't help that Jackson was still lingering around him with that childish glare. Completely unaware how Stiles just had a near death experience.

"Now if you excuse me." Stiles hissed and pushed past Jackson to go back to the kitchen for a breather. That was one thing that Jackson was at this party, but that Peter showed up too?! With a _date_?! The universe clearly hated him and wanted Stiles to know that.

“Are you alright?” one of the waitresses asked Stiles when he stumbled into the kitchen and leaned against the wall. “You look pale.”

“Don’t worry about it…” Stiles panted, trying to suppress a panic attack. Damn it, Peter. “Boss, I need ten minutes for myself, okay?” he called to the waitress passing him.

“Ten minutes, Stilinski!” she nodded firmly and he didn’t need more to make his way toward the restroom. He just needed to wash his face, breathe and remind himself of how he’s not thinking of Peter Hale even if he’s there in the flesh. You can do this, Stilinski.

Stiles spent his break in the restroom leaning over the sink and staring at his reflection in the mirror. He finally got some color onto his cheeks and courage in his chest. He wasn’t even sure if Peter would stay at the party more than half an hour, he usually leaves early. Stiles knew, he escorted Peter to a few of these events himself too. Just so he can suck him off in the car and back at his place. The boy grunted at the memories and turned away from his blushing expression in the mirror, just to almost bump into someone.

“Excuse me.” he muttered quietly as he attempted to step around the man, but the body was moving with him. Stiles closed his eyes and forced himself not to look at Peter’s face. Smelling his cologne was enough to shrink his stomach into a knot. He took a deep breath and tried to side step him again, but Peter blocked his way again.

“Peter…” Stiles sighed, turning away just to meet his reflection again, this time accompanied by Peter’s dark stare. The boy couldn’t help a shiver. “Jesus, what are you even doing…”

“Did you suck him?” Peter asked in a low voice, staring at Stiles. The boy frowned and turned his head to finally look into his face. “The Whittemore brat.” the man added. Stiles’ brows furrowed as he was trying to see what Peter was getting at.

“I did.” Stiles heard himself say in a low voice and loved the way Peter’s nostrils flared. “He was one of my customers, you know. I had a lot.” he added with a kind of sharpness in his tone he didn’t expect either.

“Did you let him fuck you?” Peter asked and Stiles wasn’t sure why, but he heard a growl in his voice. He considered lying, saying that yes, Jackson fucked his brains out, just to get back at Peter. Just to make him more jealous, just to feel some kind of triumph after the suffering Peter put him through.

“I don’t have time for this.” he said at last and pushed past Peter to get the hell out of that small space and breathe again. But as he reached the door he found it locked. Peter must have locked it on his way in. Stiles huffed annoyed and reached for the lock to open it, but the next moment he got pressed against the door roughly and all the air left his lungs. Peter pinned him against the door. Since it was opening inside the room, Stiles was trapped. He swallowed a bit scared and Peter pinned him tighter.

“Did you let him fuck you?” the man asked, hissing against his ear this time and Stiles’ body tensed up from fear.

“Peter, let me go!” he hissed back, but all that struggling just made him aware how Peter’s body is pressing against him in all the wrong and right ways. It all brought everything back. How Peter was his worst customer, and how he had no self control around him and now they weren’t even doing any business and Peter was practically harassing him.

“You didn’t, did you?” he heard Peter’s words against his ear, his hot breath caressing over sensitive skin and Stiles bit his lower lip to prevent any embarrassing sounds from escaping. He shouldn’t enjoy this, he should be offended. Well, he was scared though. “It’s not him you wanted, it’s not his cock you were dreaming of… It’s not his name you want to call when you come.” Peter’s voice was low and rough and Stiles bit his lower lip more to not fall. Not right now, not after he decided he moved on from Peter Hale.

“Can you be more of a self-centered asshole?!” Stiles hissed, his cheeks burning. “Peter I could fucking report you for sexual harassment right now, this is serious.”

“But you won’t.” Peter’s smirk was smug against his ear and Stiles felt a hand searching for his pocket and slip inside. Hot fingers caressed him through the fabric of his pants and Stiles tried to disappear into the door. “You’ll come to me, tonight.”

“I won’t..!” the boy decided, but his voice was weak. Peter just chuckled against him and it vibrated in his chest and against Stiles’ back and he couldn’t help wonder what it would feel like if they weren’t separated by clothes. “Who… who is she?” Stiles heard himself ask.

“She?” Peter asked back and Stiles wanted to kick him.

“That lady you’re with. Is she a hooker too? She’s gorgeous. Does she blow you the way I do?” Stiles rambled and he felt Peter tense behind him. Was it good, was it bad? He didn’t know, but at least a reaction.

“She does.” Peter said suddenly, though there was something in his voice. “She gets on her knees anytime and anywhere I want. She’s gorgeous, smart and most importantly, she spread her legs the moment I offered more money.”

As Peter spoke Stiles realized he wanted to rub it in. He wanted to tell Stiles that that woman was different from him in every possible way. But why? What was his game? But he didn’t have time to think about it, because Peter pressed his nose against the shell of his ear and everything Stiles was thinking about escaped him at the light touch. Damn, he so wasn’t over Peter Hale.

“Tonight.” Peter whispered and stepped back, reaching down to unlock the door. Stiles grabbed the handle and bolted out of the restroom as if it was on fire. It was only later he noticed that Peter had slipped his card into his pocket, with his room number on it.

\--

Once again, Stiles found himself in the middle of a dilemma about Peter Hale. If he should go, or not. If he goes, all those months he tried to forget him will go to waste and he’ll be an emotional wreck for god knows how long again. If he won’t go… Stiles snorted, he knew wasn’t  an option. He will go. And they will have sex. And that’s it. With that, they would really end it. Peter will finally get what he wanted and Stiles’ wet dreams will come true and then he might be able to forget the guy. Yes, if he thinks about it as a one night stand, maybe then it will work.

But Stiles was afraid. Peter was unpredictable, he didn’t know what to expect from him. What if he arrives and he laughs at him with his new hooker girl of his and sends him home. Stiles wouldn’t be able to take that humiliation. What if Stiles gets too attached again? Peter certainly won’t. He won’t even pay him for this… will he?

Stiles was still thinking an hour after he was dismissed from work, lingering around the hotel’s bar. He didn’t drink, he needed to stay sober for this. But he really wanted a drink.

“Love problems?” the bartender asked him when it was the twentieth time he took out Peter’s card and told it he hates it.

“Huh? Oh… yeah, something like that.” Stiles blinked a bit tired at the man. Then frowned a little when he got presented a glass of whiskey.

“But I…” he started, looking up confused, but the bartender just held up his hand, with a smile on his lips.

“It’s on the house.” he said. “For courage.” he added with a wink and Stiles smiled nervously. It wasn’t exactly courage what he needed… Was it? But in the end he threw the drink back and decided to get it over with. He will go to Peter… and then… well, maybe the world ends then.

Before Stiles was really realizing it, he got into the elevator and went up to the seventh floor, he was already knocking on Peter’s door. His heart was beating in his throat from curiosity, excitement and fear. Will it be like how he imagined it? Or completely different? Is Peter any good in bed…? All kinds of questions were rushing through his head in those few seconds while he was waiting for the door to open.

And then it opened. It was Peter’s room alright. He’d already ditched his jacket and tie and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone. Such a pretentious ass, Stiles thought as his eyes fell on the man’s neck. Peter’s stance was relaxed and not like a bundle of nerves like Stiles felt. The boy licked his lips as he was looking at him, then opened his mouth to say something. But he couldn’t manage out a word, because Peter reached out for him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into the room.

Now that Stiles looked at Peter in the light of the room, he didn’t look calm at all. His eyes were dark from anger and the veins were visible on his neck, he must have been really tense in every meaning of the word.

Stiles felt his back collide with the entrance door, but his complaining noise died in Peter’s mouth. The man kissed him like he wanted to claim him. Maybe he did. A growl like noise left his throat, but Stiles was too busy keeping up with the intensity of the kiss to care. Peter was still just as sensual and hot and everything that made the boy’s knees weak. Stiles had to realize that Peter was indeed good in bed.

Just when the boy was intensely sucking on Peter’s tongue, the man slipped his hands under his thighs and roughly scooped him up. Stiles slid his arms around his shoulders even if he was ready to complain. They’d spent so many nights together where Stiles had to keep his guard up to not fall for Peter that he was ready to do it again. But he reminded himself that he’s here for sex and not business.

“I’m going to fuck you, Stiles.” Peter growled as he threw him down the couch and basically tore his shirt off him.

“Okay…” Stiles answered breathless, grabbing onto the armrest of the sofa to push himself up and meet Peter’s lips again. The man’s hands were on his torso the next second and Stiles’ body tensed once again. He wondered if he’ll ever get over the automatic defensive state at the touch of Peter. Maybe never, it was a part of his relationship with the man after all.

Peter’s hands were hot against his skin as he ran them down his sides, his nails scraping in a light, teasing way. Stiles shuddered and arched his back to the touch. The man’s gaze traveled down from his face to his neck and chest, taking in the sight that was presented to him and Stiles felt a hint of pride, because Peter liked what he saw. He reached out to slip his hand on the man’s nape and pull him closer again for a kiss. It felt so surreal to do this after so many times refusing to give in.

After Stiles’ shirt, the boy decided to free Peter’s shirt of all those buttons. He heard them knock on the coffee table as he ripped it open and helped the man get out of it. When that musky smell hit Stiles mixed with Peter’s cologne he had to realize this is the first time he’d seen Peter half naked.

“Oh god…” the thought was almost too much paired with the sight he got presented. His body shivered and his mouth already watered seeing all that exposed skin. With a whimper he pressed against Peter and pushed him down the couch while his lips and tongue were busy exploring all that hot skin Peter was hiding from him all this time.

“Fuck!” Stiles heard Peter hiss when he sucked on his collarbone. “No, Stiles I don’t want teasing, I want to be inside you _right now_!” he growled and grabbed the boy’s hair at the back of his head and made him look at him. Stiles whimpered because this might be the only and last time he can kiss and touch Peter, he didn’t want it to end and store it as an ultimate jerking off fantasy too fast.

“Then you better get me to the bed, because I’m not gonna fuck you on the fucking couch!” Stiles hissed. If they will do this, he will want all the comfort, he decided. Apparently, Peter was on the same page, because he pulled Stiles on his feet and dragged him to the bedroom. The boy spotted the lube on the nightstand and frowned. Peter apparently expected him. Wait, of course he did. They both knew it will happen tonight, despite Stiles’ unsure answer.

Peter didn’t even have to tell him to take his pants off, Stiles knew they will get in the way of what they will do. Of course. He barely managed to kick off his jeans, Peter was already pushing at his shoulder and tearing off his underpants.

“Wha- hey, I need those-!” Stiles gasped as he fell back on the sheets.

“Not now.” Peter decided and crawled over him, capturing his lips again with an impatient kiss. Stiles groaned from frustration into it and bit at the man’s lower lip to show he’s not exactly pleased with Peter tearing off his underwear. But when he felt Peter’s rock hard cock against his, his mind short circuited. Peter was naked and he was all over him, and kissing him and now his wet fingers are slipping between his cheeks… Damn, when did Peter have the time to put lube on his fingers? But it didn’t matter, because Stiles already felt a finger inside him.

“O-oh…!” Stiles took in a sharp breath, grabbing onto Peter’s shoulders. He knew this moment will come, he was dreaming of it before, but somehow it was happening so fast. So unceremoniously.

“You’re going to be damn tight, Stiles. I can tell. You’re going to fit around my cock tight and you’re gonna love it.” Peter breathed and Stiles frowned. Because did he just ramble?

“Peter…” he called him, but everything he wanted to say was escaping him as the man thrust one more finger and started preparing him in a rough, impatient manner. Stiles whimpered from discomfort and threw his head back. He hated how violent this all was and yet he had never been harder in his life. Peter was just going to fuck him, use him like some kind of toy and Stiles tried to remember that this was why they were here.

The next moment Peter flipped him on his stomach, his hands were stroking his back almost possessively and Stiles arched up into the touch. He loved it. He hated that he loved it, but he did. Peter’s hands were big and strong and they left warmth in their way and the boy whimpered from need.

“Good…” Peter breathed and pressed himself against Stiles’ ass, causing him a shiver. “Oh, don’t worry, you’re gonna get it soon.”

“Then- then don’t just talk, give it to me…” Stiles heard his hoarse voice and buried his face into the pillow. The man just chuckled and grabbed his hips to pull them up, making Stiles kneel. His fingers teased Stiles’ prepared hole again.

The next moment Peter slid into him with one swift motion and all the air escaped Stiles’ lungs. He gasped, turning his head to the side, grabbing at the sheets. It was Peter. He was inside him, finally, after all those fantasies and wet dreams finally Peter’s cock was inside him.

“Oh, I like that sound.” he heard Peter breathe and Stiles wondered when he moaned. Hands were stroking his ass and back, and Stiles couldn’t help feeling a kind of satisfaction that they seemed to tremble. Probably from need. Stiles had nothing smart to say. His smart died when he entered this room giving space to need and mindless pleasure. And it was good like that. He didn’t want to think too much about what they are doing right now. It would hurt.

After he caught his breath, Stiles had to realize that Peter wasn’t moving yet. He was holding onto his waist buried into him, but wasn’t moving. To show him he’s ready Stiles moved his hips a little and heard the man chuckle.

“Yes.” he started in a low voice, leaning closer to Stiles, nuzzling at his back. “It’s yours, Stiles. Use it.”

“Wha…?” Stiles swallowed, shivering a little, when Peter still refused to move.

“Fuck yourself on my cock, Stiles. Like you always wanted. Come on, do it.” Peter spoke and Stiles felt his whole body twitch. Those words weren’t orders, but he still acted like they were and started moving his hips a bit unsure.

“Don’t be shy. You were dreaming of this, weren’t you? You wanted this.” Peter rumbled in a deep voice, draping over Stiles’ back. The boy whimpered, because yes, yes, yes, he was dreaming of this, he wanted this more than anything, but how did Peter know?! Was he that obvious? And why did Peter pick at that part of his thoughts when Stiles wanted to forget it all. Wanted to end it all and now Peter brought it all up again. He was making his way back in Stiles’ mind again.

Stiles groaned and nuzzled into the pillow as he moved his hips again, slowly, still a bit shaken. Peter was huge and he wasn’t exactly taking time in preparing him thoroughly, but Stiles didn’t mind. He welcomed the pain, he was clinging to it, and wanted to remember it.

“Is this how you wanted me to fuck you?” he heard Peter’s chuckling voice in his ear, his lips were brushing over his earlobe and Stiles froze once again. “This vanilla sex you wanted? Didn’t you want to ride me until your hole gets raw?”

“Shut up…” Stiles whimpered, closing his eyes, because yes he wanted it. “Shut up… shut up, shut up…” he repeated the words like mantra as he tilted his hips again and started moving. He closed his eyes and focused on Peter’s warmth and his scent and the fact that he was fucking himself on his cock. Yes, it was Peter’s cock and Stiles’ mouth watered at the thought of sucking on it and it was so messed up. Eventually, he set a quick and rough pace, working Peter deeper inside him than before. He reached the point where he could feel Peter’s balls at his entrance and he still pressed against them. The man let out a shaky breath against him again, tensing his own hips to keep his cock steady for Stiles.

And it was amazing. Stiles reached between his legs to take his own cock and pump it along with his writhing.

“Yes, yes this is it.” Peter spoke again and Stiles took in a sharp breath. His grip was tight on himself and feeling the man’s balls slap against him at every thrust was almost too much. “This is what you wanted Stiles, isn’t it? Good boy, work it, use it. It’s all yours.”

“Peter…” Stiles moaned and hid his face into the pillow in embarrassment. Damn, he’s gotten too into this.

“Oh? Was that my name?” Peter chuckled and cupped Stiles’ chin to turn his head to the side. “Say it again. You know you want to.”

“Peter.” Stiles said, his cheeks and ears were burning, because Peter could play him like a damn instrument and Stiles was alright with it. He gave a desperate whimper as he milked Peter’s cock, pressing hard down on it to make it rub against his prostate again. Peter was buried inside him to the hilt and Stiles loved it. “Peter… Oh god, Peter…” he mewled when he felt his body heating up even more as his release was coming.

“You’re close aren’t you?” Peter asked in a slightly shaky voice, his fingers were trembling as they stroked Stiles’ back. “Go ahead.” he rumbled quietly with an amused tone.

Stiles just gave another whimpering groan and slammed his hips against Peter in a more desperate manner, and gripping his leaking cock tighter, stroking it like there was no tomorrow. He was going to come, he was going to come on Peter’s cock and yes, yes, yes, that’s what he wanted.

But right when Stiles was ready to see a whole new world Peter grabbed his hips tighter and pulled out, leaving the boy aching. Stiles was so shocked by the sudden loss that for a second he didn’t know what happened and Peter used that momentarily confusion to flip him on his back and force his hand off his cock.

“No…!” Stiles’ cry was too rough and desperate even for his own ears as he was looking up into Peter’s dark expression. The man pinned his hands down the bed with an iron grip, so he couldn’t touch his cock or move at all. Yet his body was practically in pain from the stolen release. “Peter—Peter, please..!” he panted, trying to squirm under Peter’s grip, but the man didn’t budge. He never did.

“Does it hurt?” Peter asked leaning closer. “Getting hung up in the last second?” he hissed. “This is how I felt, Stiles. All those times you left me half satisfied. All those times I asked to fuck you and you said no.”

“What the fuck…” Stiles managed not so coherently. He was turned on, denied release and he was maybe a little scared, but it just made it all _better_. He squirmed, trying to get at least a little friction somehow to his cock to come.

Peter chuckled, watching him struggle and looked down at his body, his eyes falling on his leaking cock.

“You’d look marvelous with a cock-ring right now.” he mused quietly. “I could just blow at it and you’d come, wouldn’t you?”

“Please…” Stiles mewled, trying to arch his hips. And he knew that in that moment he lost every self control, and that’s what Peter probably wanted.

“Begging already?” Peter asked in a breathless voice, purely being turned on by it. “You’re not that high and mighty right now, aren’t you? Reduced to a mewling, squirming little boy under me who’s got denied the cock he so wants.”

Stiles winced and threw his head back. A pained groan left his throat and he was on the verge of sobbing. Because Peter was right, he was practically in pain for his cock in him. But wasn’t he before…?

“I’ll give it to you, Stiles. Unlike you, I can get gracious.” Peter chuckled, watching that exposed neck. His voice was rough and Stiles found a bit of comfort in the fact that Peter probably wanted to fuck him just as bad as Stiles wanted him inside of him. “If you beg more.”

“Beg for me, Stiles. Beg for me to fuck you.” Peter growled, tightening his grip on the boy’s hands and Stiles gave a yell that was both from arousal and pain.

“Fuck me… please, Peter, please, fuck me, I want- I want you to fuck me.” Stiles practically sobbed, arching his back and squirming for any kind of contact. Peter’s breath became uneven too. His begging really was working and Peter scrambled to find his way back between his legs again.

The moment Peter slammed back into him, Stiles came with a loud cry. He heard the man’s breathless laugh as he was riding him through his waves of pleasure and Peter gave it to him. He was pounding into him with vehement and rough strength that made Stiles wonder how he will hurt for the next few days. But he didn’t care. He arched up his back, putting his legs around Peter’s hips to let him in deeper, even after he was spent.

Stiles wasn’t sure, because he felt like he was in a whole different living state as Peter grabbed him and fucked into him, but he heard the man growl. It was a full growl, like dogs or lions do. But the boy thought maybe he was just hearing things. Either way, it was a magnificent sound, in contrary with his loud sobbing breaths and moans. Then the man came and his whole body tensed and drove himself deep inside Stiles, rubbing against his sweet spot so much the boy didn’t know if it hurts or feels too good. Maybe both. Pleasure can hurt after all.

Under Peter’s hands Stiles’ recovery time had become pretty short and he didn’t mind. He wondered if he should be ashamed that he was practically acting like a cockslut all night, but he didn’t care. Because he was. He was a slut for Peter’s cock the moment he first put it into his mouth and they both knew that. But why did it have to come to this…

\--

Stiles had no idea when he fell asleep. Or how much he was asleep, but he knew he felt pretty sore. And something was caressing his hair… the room was still dark and the clock showed it was some god awful hour in the very early morning, so Stiles still wasn’t entirely sure what was happening. But then Peter gave a soft sound and leaned over, burying his nose into Stiles’ hair. The boy shuddered at the contact, because it was just so intimate somehow. Peter took a few deep breaths then moved his head, nuzzling at the back of Stiles’ neck.

A hand caressed his back and Stiles let out a shaky breath. Even after a few hours of their mindblowing sex he was still sensitive. And the way Peter proceeded to touch him was making it way worse. The man’s kisses were soft and light as they were adoring the skin on Stiles’ back; his hands were careful and warm and complimented him by touch and Stiles felt his throat tighten.

Peter moved closer, pressing against himas his fingers slowly continued their way lower on Stiles’ body, finding his ass and rubbing his cheeks. Stiles gave a soft sound and spread his legs a little for those fingers. He was still loose and wet from earlier and Peter’s fingers slid in easily. The man gave a pleased growl and with slow, careful movements he shifted and replaced his fingers with his cock.

With a shaky breath Stiles spread his legs more. It still hurt, but not in the way it did earlier. And Peter was slow as he fucked him, inching in deep and through. But it didn’t feel right. Stiles licked his suddenly dry lips and moved his head and body and reached for Peter’s shoulder to make him pull out as he turned from his stomach on his back. Peter let him without a word. Though when Stiles laid back on the bed and looked into the man’s face in the darkness he seemed to hesitate.

The boy frowned, not really sure what Peter’s hesitation meant, but he reached out with both hands and cupped his cheeks, pulling him into a lazy kiss. It seemed to do the trick, because Peter moved in, kissing back and thrusting inside Stiles again. His movements didn’t have that wild edge like before. He wanted to feel Stiles, wanted to feel them connected and that just made it worse. And Stiles still couldn’t stop kissing him.

Their kisses weren’t desperate like before. They were slow, and deep and too close and Stiles knew he should stop and shouldn’t venture into this deeper than he already was, but he couldn’t. His whole body, his chest was aching for Peter, even if he was deep inside him. And as if Peter knew he was thinking about that, his hand moved lower between their bodies and grabbed Stiles’ erection. The boy gave a soft sound into their kiss at the touch,loving it. He wanted to call Peter’s name or say something, but he was afraid any kinds of words would shatter what they had right then. Instead he just kissed Peter more and the man didn’t seem to mind.

Peter stroked him with slow, long movements while he thrust into him just as slowly, barely pulling out. And Stiles didn’t mind. He wanted it. This is what he wanted with Peter in the first place, but he knew the man wasn’t capable of giving it to him. And yet, here they were.

Stiles gave a quiet moan when he came, clinging to Peter and moaning into his kiss. It was satisfying in a whole different way than the rough, wild fucking earlier, but much more dangerous. Stiles knew he will have a hard time getting this out of his head…

When the boy was spent, Peter moved his arms around his back, pulling him close to his body and burying himself inside to the hilt. His lips remained on Stiles’, looking into his eyes as he was fucking into him with small, soft thrusts. It wasn’t fucking, Stiles realized, Peter made love to him and that thought made him whimper. But even that sound was kissed away by Peter as his movements became a bit more urgent. And his eyes flashed. They were actually flashing bright blue and Stiles took in a sharp breath. Maybe it was just the lights outside, he thought…

Peter came the next second, burying his face into Stiles’ neck and calling his name with a growl. Stiles held him close, feeling Peter saying his name rather than hearing it. He could feel it in his whole body, that low rumble that echoed in his chest and making it even more tight and painful…

\--

Stiles woke once again deep into the morning. The smell of coffee and fresh pastry was in the air and it made his stomach growl. But he didn’t want to wake up just yet, he didn’t want to face the reality of this situation. He wanted to lay forever in this bed and wait for Peter to come back. Stiles knew he wasn’t there, pressed tightly against him, because when Peter had moved away, Stiles woke up. The man laid a kiss on his shoulder and got out of bed and judging by the sounds he was in the shower. Stiles wanted to take one too, so when the sounds of running water stopped he finally stretched out and sat up in bed. Though his eyes caught something on the nightstand.

An envelope.

Stiles’ heart skipped a beat and he thought if he was just imagining things. But no, that was an all too familiar envelope. With a gulp he moved to take it and his horror grew bigger when he read his name on it. He opened it and there was cash inside. A whole lot of cash.

Peter paid him for the night.

The boy froze for a moment, staring at that huge amount of money and he didn’t really have to count it to know it’s a _lot_. But then his throat tightened and the bathroom door opened. Stiles wasn’t even thinking when he scrambled out of bed, got the first underwear in reach to put on and hurried out to meet Peter. Who was freshly out of the shower, with a towel around his waist and Stiles would have adored that sight, if he weren’t so pissed off.

“What the fuck is this?!” he shouted getting up into Peter’s surprised face and holding up the envelope. The man blinked at him and his eyes turned to the money before he answered all too calmly for Stiles’ taste.

“It’s your payment.” Peter answered and his eyes were seeking Stiles’, as if he was trying to see something. The boy took in an angry breath and threw the money on the floor.

“I wasn’t-“ he started, but he needed a moment to collect himself, so his voice wouldn’t crack. “I wasn’t doing this for the money and you know it!” he hissed. “I- I came here to end this madness, to _really_ end it!”

Peter’s lips tightened as he was listening to Stiles.

“Then take the money, Stiles.” he spoke quietly.

“I won’t--!” the boy stomped and the next moment Peter’s arms were around his waist, pulling him against his hot and still slightly wet body. Stiles gave a noise of surprise and something else he was trying not to think of right now. He was mad at Peter after all.

“If you want to end this, Stiles, to really end it then take the money.” Peter rumbled, his gaze intense on Stiles’ face. “Then you and I will both know you were into it just because of the money and the sexual tension.” he continued and Stiles opened his mouth to protest, because it wasn’t _just that_. But Peter put his finger against his lips to shut him up.

“If you still choose not to take the money… then I won’t quit you. I will go after you and find you and make you beg for my cock, Stiles. Because I can’t let you go, not anymore.” he spoke softly and Stiles’ chest swelled. What was Peter trying to say?! He wanted him just for his stupid, macho, possessive nature and not because he really wanted him! Right?

“You can’t be serious.” Stiles shook his head. “Just because you want to fuck me you shouldn’t act like a dick!”

“Stiles, I don’t just want to fuck you.” Peter started a little annoyed. “I want to take you. Make you mine and if it means I will have to put up with you all the time… then I’m going to have to accept that.”

Stiles was sure he was dreaming. He was still sleeping in the bed, he must be, because Peter was talking nonsense.

“You mean… you mean if I won’t take the money then… “ he started in a trembling voice, licking his lips as he was eying Peter’s face for any kind of sign that he was just joking. “…then you will, I mean, we could… There could be something?”

“It’s exactly what I’m saying.” Peter nodded, his gaze dropping on Stiles’ lips. “Don’t play dumb, boy, it’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” he smirked and Stiles wanted to punch him.

“It… is, but you said you don’t want it before. On the day of your niece’s funeral.” Stiles spoke and the man’s gaze grew darker.

“I thought I could quit you, that I can go on without thinking of you and your mouth and your scent, but I apparently can’t. I want you, Stiles.” he repeated, and Stiles wasn’t exactly surprised he didn’t explain anything about their last night together.

Stiles sighed, looking into Peter’s face and feeling utterly lost. He just got offered what he wanted, but he still wasn’t sure. And the man knew it, somehow he knew it, because his hand slipped to cup his jaw, his thumb brushing his cheek.

“Stiles, there are people who think I assassinated my own niece and you know I’m capable of that. You _know_ me and there was a reason you said no to me over and over again.” he spoke softly and Stiles gasped. Because apparently, Peter knew Stiles just as much as the boy knew him. “Take the money and end it if you really want to. You and I both know it’s the smart way.”

Yes, Stiles thought, it was the smart way. Taking the money, drinking away half of it, sleeping with strangers with the same cologne as Peter used, bitch about him to Scott and then move on with his life. The smart way.

And yet Stiles cupped Peter’s hand on his cheek and squeezed it before he leaned over to kiss him.

“You’re the stupidest boy I’ve ever met.” Peter muttered against his lips when Stiles pulled back a little.

“You’re the biggest asshole I’ve ever met.” Stiles whispered back, leaning against the other. “So does this mean I gotta ask you things and we can, like, talk and stuff?” he asked with a smirk.

“I was afraid that will happen, but didn’t expect it so early.” the man sighed, stroking Stiles’ back. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about your eyes.” Stiles answered without hesitation and Peter chuckled.

“Oh that…” he sighed, looking down for a moment. “Come on, I’ll enlighten you about it under the shower.” he smirked and pulled Stiles toward the bathroom.

And Stiles got enlightened. Twice. But he still asked all his questions again.


End file.
